The Charlotte trailed the unsuspecting Shenzhen throughout the day without incident. Towards dusk they downloaded the daily LASH report, and much to the delight of all the men, a pile of family-grams. At 2100 hours, McGraw went back up to periscope depth to sneak a peek at the freighter’s stern. It was still plodding along at sixteen knots, oblivious to the nuclear attack submarine trailing it some 2,000 feet astern.
“It looks like one heck of a storm up there. We could be 500 feet behind these guys in the middle of the day and they still wouldn’t see the feather from our periscope in these seas. Would you like to take a look, Danny Boy?”
“I’d love to, Captain.”
Kerrod stepped into position, gripping the scope’s black knurled handles and pressed his right eye against the soft molding of the view finder. With a slight right, left, right motion of the periscope, he zeroed in on the freighter. “Damn, we’re close! I can see the welded seams in the steel plate.”
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